


It's About a Man's Pride, Dammit

by kokoro



Category: Persona 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kokoro/pseuds/kokoro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke doesn't understand the mechanics of makeup removal so Souji lends him a hand after the cross-dressing pageant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's About a Man's Pride, Dammit

“I’ve never been so _humiliated_ in my life!” Yosuke shouted for possibly the third time that afternoon, slamming the bag of girls’ clothing and makeup he was holding down on the boys’ bathroom counter. After getting off the pageant stage, Souji and Yosuke had dashed to their classroom-turned-dressing-room to change back into their normal uniforms, and the entire time Yosuke had barely stopped ranting for long enough to breathe. They were back to wearing pants but their faces were still caked with makeup, creating a rather… odd image, so they’d relocated to the bathroom to scrub it all off.

“I mean, did you hear what those guys said to me in the hall? They were all:” Yosuke contorted his face and voice to do an unflattering impression of them, “‘Y’know, Hana-chan, that color really works for you. If you keep your mouth shut, maybe that pretty face’ll get you a boyfriend after all!’ Tch. This is gonna haunt me for the rest of my youth and it’s all _her_ fault!”

Having heard Yosuke’s side of the blame game for about 15 minutes straight now, Souji didn’t even bother looking at him and instead focused on peeling off his fake eyelashes. “It _was_ you who started all this, though. It could have been avoided if you’d read the fine print.” Or if Yosuke had just grown up and stopped pulling dumb pranks, especially after his proposal for the Group Date Cafe had actually been chosen. After that disaster of a vote, he really should have known better.

Yosuke turned the warm water handle on the sink and let the tap run. “Dude, are you actually taking Chie’s side? We got up in front of the whole school in skirts and _mascara_. I’m pretty damn sure we got screwed over more than the girls did.”

“I’m not saying we didn’t. But if the situation were switched, you probably would have retaliated too,” Souji said, cool as always. He had a habit of framing things in rational ways that made Yosuke feel a little foolish, but Yosuke had no desire to be rational right now. In the immortal words of Kanji, “it’s about a man’s pride, dammit,” and his was critically wounded.

Having nothing to reply with, Yosuke splashed water on his face and rubbed vigorously, like he was taking out all his frustration on it. He watched some of the powdered pigment swirl down the drain, but most of it stubbornly clung onto him. His eye makeup was smudging and dripping down his cheeks, but it refused to go away.

“What the hell? Is this stuff permanent marker?” By some miracle, Souji’s face was already successfuly bare. Though to be fair, it was probably because Yukiko hadn’t gone out of her way to make Souji look like a streetwalker like _someone_ had with Yosuke. “Dude, how’d you get it off so fast?”

“It won’t wash off with water alone, you have to use makeup remover.” Souji held up a bottle of liquid that the girls had stashed in the bag. 

“They make that?”

“Of course.” Souji ripped off a sheet of paper towel and dabbed some of the liquid onto it. “Come here, I’ll take it off for you.”

Yosuke hesitated, glancing between Souji and the paper towel and then his own disastrous reflection in the mirror. The mascara was streaking down his face, like he was a girl crying because her boyfriend broke up with her. It was a look he’d never predicted to see on himself. “I can do it myself.”

“At the rate you’re going, you’d just rub your eyes raw. It’ll only take me a minute.”

“…Alright, if you really know what you’re doing.” Yosuke stepped over to Souji’s sink and held back a jump when Souji took his chin in his hand. His hold was firm, meaning Yosuke couldn’t turn away like his knee-jerk reaction recommended.

“Hold still, okay?” Souji started wiping away at the dark streaks as gently as possible. Despite flinching a few times when Souji brushed over his eyelids, Yosuke mostly kept his eyes open and alert. Souji looked concentrated, and while Yosuke had seen that expression plenty of times in the TV world or when they were studying for exams, this was the first time he’d seen it so close up. Souji’s eyes were focused and as attention-grabbing as ever. Yosuke didn’t think he’d ever seen ones that color or with such an air of mystery, that both concealed and revealed so much at the same time.

Whenever Souji looked at him, _really_ looked at him, he felt like Souji was peering through him with no problem, though it wasn’t as if Yosuke bothered to keep much about himself hidden from the guy anyway. But when he tried to peer back, Souji’s eyes were opaque and he couldn’t see much behind them and the standard issue expression he wore most often. It was like they were a one-way mirror, allowing Souji to watch and note everything about the people around him, but when Yosuke attempted to look back through them all he saw was himself. As dumb as that sounded, that was probably why Yosuke was able to realize and come to terms with so much about himself without Souji actually doing the analyzing for him. All Souji’d had to do was listen, speak every now and then, and look at him with those reflective eyes, and suddenly Yosuke’d had all the tools to untie the knots inside himself.

Yosuke’s line of sight trailed to Souji’s lips, drawn tight but still glistening with a bit of lipgloss that didn’t quite get wiped off. Yosuke inadvertantly rubbed his own lips together, realizing they were still slick and sticky—he couldn’t believe girls liked wearing this stuff, it felt like he’d eaten dango and then didn’t wipe his mouth after. It also occurred to him that this was the same lip gloss Souji had on, and Yosuke’d used the tube after him. He tried to submerge the thought as soon as it appeared, but the words “secondhand kiss” floated through his head before he could stop them. Only half-aware of what he was doing, Yosuke curiously licked his own bottom lip, tasting the artificial strawberry flavor. He accidentally made eye contact with Souji and his cheeks began to heat up.

Yosuke let out a laugh, which ended up sounding more strangled than he’d intended. “How, uh— How do you know how to do this anyway, partner?”

“I’m in the drama club, remember? I was in the ones at my last couple of schools too. Makeup is a big part of the territory.” He smiled, and Yosuke couldn’t tell if Souji was smiling at him or at some fond nostalgic drama club memory. He felt a small, odd twang of jealousy at the thought of it being the latter. “I don’t know how to apply it, but I know how to take it off fast enough by now.”

“Oh, that makes sense…”

Souji started scrubbing at Yosuke’s cheek a bit harder, his expression becoming confused. “That’s strange… The blush isn’t coming off.”

“Really?” Yosuke asked, but as soon as the word left his mouth he pieced together that it was probably the heat in his face staining his cheeks now, not the makeup. It was easy to see why Souji would confuse them, but it wouldn’t be easy to explain the misunderstanding. He broke away from Souji’s grip and took a step back, another strained laugh escaping his throat. “Y-Y’know what, don’t worry about it, it’ll come off on its own soon enough. So, yeah.” Yosuke peeked in the mirror, confirming that his face was color-free except for the suspicious pink tone that was naturally there. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

Souji balled up the paper towel and tossed it at the trash can across the room, sinking it in one shot like he was shooting a free throw at basketball practice. Show-off. “Alright, I’ll make sure to call you over and use that favor next time Nanako and I need a manicure.”

Yosuke elbowed him in the ribs and said something along the lines of “You dumb-ass” between genuine, non-awkward laughs. He then picked the bag up off the counter and peeked at all the makeup tubes and containers stocked inside. “So what are we supposed to do with this stuff, anyway? Give it back to the girls?” Yosuke asked.

“I’d say we should return all the pressed powder and eye makeup. But I doubt they’d want anything that’s touched our mouths, since that’s not exactly sanitary. I think Chie bought that new tube of lipgloss just for us.”

“Oh, gotcha. In that case, you keep it. Save it for your next play.” Yosuke fished the tube out of the bag and held it out, shooting Souji a teasing wink.

“But Hana-chan, shouldn’t you be its rightful owner? Those boys were right, it really does make you look cute.” The unfaltering straight face he said it with put Yosuke on edge. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Souji was always being serious when he messed with him like this.

Yosuke spat out, “Hey, I thought we talked about this yesterday! Quit saying crap like that, you’re too good of an actor. Freaks me out.”

“Who said I was acting?” Souji asked, deliberately letting his words drawl a bit. 

“Watch it, Seta.” Yosuke forfeited the conversation and stuffed the lipgloss tube in his pocket. “Whatever, I’ll double check with Chie and throw it out later. Now let’s just go and have fun, okay? I wanna put all this behind me with some yakisoba.”

They spent the rest of the day exploring the Cultural Festival and ignoring any stares or whispers that were probably directed toward them. If anyone didn’t go to the pageant, they probably knew what they’d looked like in drag by now anyway, thanks to the help of camera phones and picture messages.

When Yosuke got back home that evening, he emptied the contents of his pockets out on his dresser: spare change, unused raffle tickets, folded-up flyers… and the tube of lipgloss. Right, he was supposed to toss that out. But after staring at it for a few moments and rubbing his lips together, which had become bare and rough since that afternoon, he made no move to drop it in the waste basket just a meter away. He had no reason to leave the tube there amongst the mess, but he did. He didn't ask himself why and he didn't think he had an answer, though even if he did he probably wouldn't have wanted to know it.

So it remained there, looking like the object that didn't belong in one of those "Can You Spot It?" puzzles. That is, until Teddie took note and flagrantly asked Yosuke's mother if it was hers a couple days later at the dinner table.


End file.
